


If You Die In This Pool With Me

by megankelly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megankelly/pseuds/megankelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kanima traps Stiles in the pool with Erica instead of Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Die In This Pool With Me

Before Stiles and Erica could even realize what was happening, the thing—Erica thought of it as mutant lizard—had knocked Derek aside. “Derek!” Erica screamed, but she didn’t move towards him. One look at his motionless body, and she knew he was out cold. Erica took a deep breath, stepped directly in front of Stiles, and bared her fangs.

“Run!” 

She told herself she could fight off the lizard. But she knew that wasn’t true—even with the extra motivation of protecting Stiles. If Derek, an Alpha, couldn’t do it, there was no way she could. 

The lizard launched itself at Erica. Erica’s claws shot out as she struggled against it. She fared better than expected, getting in one good blow that sent the lizard scrambling towards the wall.

“Erica,” Stiles said.

She tried not to think about how good her name sounded like that—in his voice, his concerned voice, breathy and afraid. 

“Your neck.”

Then she felt it—the lizard’s poison surging through her, shutting everything down. She started to stumble, and Stiles swooped in to catch her. “I’ve got you.” With one arm, he supported her as they headed towards the exit. 

Erica didn’t like this. Not being strong. The only thing that made her feel better was that Stiles’s arm was around her. She thought she had missed out on any chance of that after the incident outside Boyd’s house, which she had kept replaying in her head ever since. She had only taken the car part out to threaten him and prevent him from driving to the rink. But then her new werewolf aggression turned all her pent-up feelings of, Why won’t you just pay attention to me?, into something violent—and the car part into a serious weapon. 

Stiles reached for his phone, and in that second, lost all control. In the process of grabbing and dropping the cell phone, while also trying to move his self and Erica forward, Stiles had somehow let Erica stumble out of his grasp. She yelped as she fell backwards into the water.

Even under the water, she was thinking that she had to be able to do something. She didn’t become a super cool werewolf to die so helplessly. Just when Erica realized there was truly nothing she could do, Stiles was there, grabbing her by the armpits and pulling her up. She sputtered as they broke the water’s surface. 

Erica coughed. “Where is it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did you call Scott?” 

“No, I didn’t call Scott,” Stiles snapped. “I was kind of trying to save your life if you haven’t noticed.”

Erica huffed. “I know that. You don’t have to be so defensive.”

“Well, if I didn’t have to defend myself from a part of my own car being hurled at my head-”

“That again? Really? I did you a favor.”

“Oh yeah, silly me, not being grateful for waking up in a dumpster. I’m the freak here.”

Erica was going to continue bickering. Then she heard the hiss. Both Erica and Stiles’s eyes shot straight to the lizard, which was staring down at them from the wall. Stiles was breathing frantically. Erica felt his grip on her tighten.

“What do we do?” she asked. She hadn’t meant for it to come out as a whisper, but it had. Really, she hadn’t meant to even ask it. She was the werewolf. She was the one in Derek’s pack. She should’ve known. But she didn’t, and she trusted Stiles; she knew how smart he was. 

“Shh,” he said and held her tighter.

The lizard crawled down the wall and slithered its way to the edge of the pool. Erica could hear Stiles’s heart beating like crazy. She was sure her own was doing the same. The lizard’s claw skimmed the water. Then the lizard shot backwards. 

“It’s…it’s afraid,” Stiles said.

“So we-”

“We wait.”

“And you hold me up so I don’t drown?”

“No, I’m just in this water to practice my swimming skills. Next year I’m hoping to sit on the bench for the swim team.” 

She was glad he was behind her and couldn’t see that his sarcasm had made her smile.

“Well, if we’re going to be like this for a while, there has to be a more comfortable way for you to hold me. I know you aren’t used to holding girls, Stiles, but you don’t actually have to avoid my boobs. They don’t have Kryptonite in them or something.” 

“I’m not, I, uh, wasn’t, um—would that make me Superman in this situation? Because Superman sucks.”

Erica sighed. “Not the point, Stiles. I’m just saying, whatever is least tiring for you or least uncomfortable or something-”

Stiles shifted so Erica was leaning against him. “Satisfied? Now can you maybe stop criticizing me as I save your life?”

“I wasn’t-” Erica sighed. It was useless. Stiles may have been saving her, but it was because he was a decent person and that was what a decent person did. It didn’t change that he hated her. “Think what you want.”

He muttered something to himself, and she was struck by how close he sounded. She tried not to like that. 

\--

They’d both been silent for fifteen minutes when Erica finally said what they’d both been thinking: “It’s not going anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“So. We might as well talk. Since we’re here.”

“Or not,” Stiles said.

“What’s your problem? A lot of people would kill to be here with me right now. Even under these circumstances.”

“I don’t care about your makeover, Erica. You threw me in a dumpster and dragged me here to be interrogated and are just generally being a jerk to my friends, so sorry if I don’t want to chit chat.”

“Do you actually not get it?”

“Huh?” 

“It makes sense that Scott just sees me as some villain and that Allison thinks I’m just some were-whore trying to steal her boyfriend. I just thought that you, out of anyone, would be able to see a little more complexly than that. But maybe I expected too much.”

“Erica, I don’t exactly know what you want me to see.”

“That I’m just doing what I need to do as part of Derek’s pack. And yeah, I’m enjoying it, but can you really blame me? My life sucked, Stiles. And don’t pretend that you don’t know that because you’ve heard people laugh at me and talk about me. You’ve seen me alone everyday. You know that.” 

Stiles gulped. “I-Erica-”

“Let me finish, Stiles. Everybody knows that you’re in love with Lydia.”

“Wait, what does that have to do with anything?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, Stiles. You would do anything to have her see you the way you see her, wouldn’t you? But she doesn’t see you, Stiles.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do know what I’m talking about because I’ve lived it but worse. I’ve been into someone who never cared that I existed. I’ve flown under everyone’s radar—only getting attention when I’m having a seizure. And trust me, that’s not exactly the Oh, Erica, let me take you to prom kind of attention. I’ve been at the point where I would do anything to get people to look at me, to see me as a person. And now…people see me.” 

“And how does that give you a reason to bash my head in?”

“It doesn’t! I just—people see me, but you know what? That doesn’t erase all those years where nobody did. I’m still angry. And now I have the power and the confidence to use that anger. To hurt people. Which maybe is not the healthiest thing ever.” Erica sighed. “I’m sorry. For the whole hitting you thing.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“I guess Scott did try to kill me, like, four times and make out with the love of my life. And he’s supposed to be my best friend.” 

“Was that you forgiving me?”

“I guess so,” Stiles said. Erica smiled to herself. “Wait, were you mad at me?”

Erica’s smile faltered. “Huh?”

“You were talking about being angry with people. Were you, are you angry at me?”

Again, she was relieved he wasn’t in a position where he could scrutinize her facial expressions. She only had to make her voice level—though that proved to be a struggle as she asked, “Why would I be angry at you?”

“I don’t know.” He made a blowing noise. “Sorry, your hair keeps getting in my mouth. But anyway, are you?”

Briefly, she considered telling him, starting from the beginning. That day in seventh grade science class, the day after her first seizure and the hospital visit that had changed her life. She was still waiting to hear back on some test results, but the doctor thought it was epilepsy. That word, epilepsy, kept running through her head, and her eyes kept filling with tears. The last thing she wanted to do was sob in class, especially after embarrassing herself with that seizure in English the day before. She had desperately searched the room for something to focus on—something to keep her happy. Somehow, she ended up eavesdropping on Scott and Stiles all period. They were managing to make the assignment, a worksheet, fun—mostly because Stiles made fun of Scott all class, though not in the mean way that some of her English classmates had made fun of her. They were clearly best friends, all smiles and laughter, and there was a fondness to all of Stiles’s smart, sarcastic remarks. The snippets she could catch of his comments were the only thing keeping her from sobbing. After that came a crush she couldn’t shake off. In the midst of dark days, she counted on seeing Stiles, on getting to hear him talk, on being able to focus on him to take her mind off of things. Eventually, the crush took a turn for the worst, just like everything else had. 

Back when she was twelve, Erica figured she’d gain the confidence to actually talk to Stiles one day—or that he might even want to talk to her. But her confidence and social status sunk lower with each year, each seizure; sometimes it seemed like they got worse each day. By sophomore year, Erica had given up on Stiles ever noticing her. And the idea of approaching him? Practically unthinkable. Especially when it was so obvious all of his thoughts were consumed by Lydia Martin, uncontested queen of Beacon Hills High School. The crush that was supposed to give her something positive to focus on was just another thing making her miserable, reminding her of what she could never have.

Even with the bite, the makeover, the leather jackets and short skirts and perfect skin and body and hair, beautiful everything, Erica couldn’t tell him. Because all of that didn’t matter to him. He still didn’t care. And it did make her angry.

“No, Stiles. I’m not angry at you.” She paused. “Would you care if I was?”

“Uh—I don’t know.”

And they were both quiet again, listening to each other breathe and Stiles treading water and the pant of the lizard.  
\--

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to. Really, I wasn’t trying to—uh—they’re just kind of in the way there because of, uh, no forget that I mentioned that, um, okay. Sorry,” Stiles said before devolving into incoherent stammering. 

Erica looked down at his hands which had moved further up to avoid her chest. “Dude. Chill. You do realize I’m paralyzed from the neck down and wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t said anything, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Um, Erica?”

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I need to call Scott.”

“But your phone-”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll be really quick, I promise.”

“Wait, what are you doing?” 

“Erica, I promise, I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do? Drop me?” 

“I’ll get the phone, call really quick, and then I’ll get you. We’ve been here for over two hours. I didn’t hold you up that long just so we can both sink. We’re getting out of this. Trust me, okay?” 

She shook her head frantically. “I—maybe it’ll just go away.” 

“I’m not going to leave you, Erica.”

“How do I know? Like you said, I bashed your head in. I’m a jerk to your friends. If I was out of the way—”

“Erica, you know because I’m giving you my word and because you’re crazy if you think I’d want you to die for any of that crap. I’m not going to leave you.” 

His tone was harsh and passionate. Though Erica’s instinct was to assume the worst of people, especially when it came to the possibility of them caring about her, she couldn’t assume the worst from Stiles. Not when he could’ve left her there a long time ago. Not when he dived into the water to save her in the first place. Not when he was so fearlessly heroic in this supernatural world without even fangs to protect him. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Just do it. Though you better not be lying, Stiles, because if I die at the bottom of the Beacon Hills High School swimming pool, I swear, I am haunting you for the rest of your life.” Erica had attempted to sound menacing, but she didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore. She was sure she sounded like what she was—a girl terrified the one person keeping her alive would leave. 

As he let her go, he said it again: “I promise.” Then she went under. 

\--

“Erica, Erica, you’re okay. You’re okay, right? You’re okay.” 

She felt lightheaded and was coughing, but overall, she did, in fact, feel okay. He had kept his promise. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Is Scott on the way?”

“Well, about that….”

“Stiles, you’re kidding me.”

“He hung up.”

“He hung up?” 

“Yeah, before I got the chance to really say anything.” 

Erica groaned. “Great friend you got there. I really should’ve had you call Boyd or Isaac.”

“Yeah, like Boyd or Isaac could handle that lizard thing like Scott could.”

“At least they’d have listened.”

“Well, Scott’s a little bit—okay, I really don’t have the energy to defend him. Right now he kind of sucks. And if I die in this pool with you because he couldn’t take a second to listen to my call, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“I’m just as mad at Scott as you are, but you do know that wouldn’t be his fault? Technically, anyway. If you die in this pool with me.”

“Well, yeah, it’s the scaly guy over there.”

“No. I mean, you don’t have to stay with me.”

“Yeah, I do.” 

He said it so matter-of-factly. He didn’t even sound resentful. 

Erica bit her lip. “I don’t know if people tell you this a lot, Stiles, but you’re a really good guy.”

“Erica Reyes, are you getting mushy on me?”

“Hey, I may be dying whenever your arms give out, so just shut up and let me say what I have to say, alright?”

His voice was hushed and oddly serious. “What—uh, what do you have to say?” 

“Just, you know, thanks. And that I think it’s cool, that you can be so brave and just…good and stuff, just being you, you know, without fangs or powers or anything.” 

“Wow, that was touching, Erica.”

She was blushing. “Oh, shut up. Last time I am ever saying anything nice to you ever again.”

He laughed. “Sorry. If it makes you feel better, I’m significantly less upset about the prospect of possibly dying for you than I would’ve been a few hours ago.” 

“Really?”

“Last time I am ever saying anything nice to you ever again.”

She laughed and hoped it wasn’t—hoped there’d be more times, period.

\--

A few minutes later, the water was up to her chin. She knew Stiles wasn’t going to be able to keep her up much longer, and she could tell Stiles knew that as well; he smelled more and more like fear with each passing second. The worst thing was, Erica had this feeling that the paralytic  
was wearing off. If they could just make it long enough, Erica would be able to move again, and they could get out of the pool. Then she could at least throw herself at the lizard. Though she doubted she could beat it off, that would give Stiles a chance to run for it. 

“Maybe if I have something to grab,” Stiles said. “We’re gonna go towards the diving board, alright?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Wear off, wear off, wear off. 

But it wasn’t wearing off. For now, their hope was still in Stiles’s strength and the diving board. He adjusted his hold, then kicked off towards the diving board now. He was more careless about where he was holding her than he had been in the beginning. It was do or die—or maybe he had just become more comfortable with her. Not that the latter really mattered, since both of them could be dead in a few minutes. With one arm, he held onto a bar on the underside of the diving board. The other he kept around her.

She wanted to say something again—break the silence—but he was concentrating. She didn’t think words could quite convey what she was feeling, anyway. So she stayed quiet, hoping that he knew that this meant something to her. That he would go through all this for her—even if he would’ve done it for anyone.

Their heads began bobbing up and down, below the water, then above. 

Erica closed her eyes and tried to think positively. At least she’d tasted all the things in life she’d wanted. Power. Beauty. Health. But that didn’t comfort her all that much. She just kept thinking about her mother, who had gotten so used to leaving Erica alone that she had barely commented on all of Erica’s sudden changes, and her father, who seemed so relieved anytime Erica said she was going out—so relieved that his daughter was finally not a freak. She thought of Derek and Isaac and Boyd and the ways that they were starting to become a family. It was still early, but she felt it in her bones around them: that they really could be a family, that they could grow together and care for each other, be what each other desperately needed. But now that chance was being taken from her. 

She thought of Stiles who was struggling to keep them above the water and how one day Scott could’ve came around, just how Derek had always wanted, and Stiles would’ve came around with him and they all could’ve been a family. She thought of how much she would’ve liked that.

And then they went under. 

Just when she thought it was over, a hand yanked her out of the pool, and she and Stiles were lying side-by-side on the tile. She heard the lizard hiss and Scott’s roar. Around the same time, she felt the paralytic finally wearing off. She was about to move, then she heard the sound of shattering glass. She didn’t think about it, but her hand shot towards Stiles’s and squeezed it as shards fell to the ground.

He made some flustered noise, some nonsense syllable, and Erica, feeling utterly humiliated, let go. She propped herself up on the diving board just in time to see the lizard’s tail disappearing through a window on the roof. Erica looked over to Scott, then, who was standing there looking dazed by the entire event. After a few blinks, he walked over and helped Stiles to his feet. Then he extended his hand to Erica who was too tired to think about what accepting that gesture meant. She looked at the pair of them, Scott and Stiles, and was about to endure the struggle of trying to find the right thing to say after all that had happened—but then she thought of Derek.

She sprinted to where he was sprawled out on the ground and knelt beside him. “Derek,” she said, shaking him. “Derek.” 

He opened his eyes, and she let out a sigh of relief. 

In less than a second, any appearance of vulnerability was gone. He was sitting up, in Alpha mode once again. “What happened? What did you do? Did you kill it?” Then he saw Scott from his peripheral vision. “Oh.”

“It left. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Derek stood. “I need to know everything about what you saw.”

“Yeah, okay.”

But Erica was distracted by the hushed conversation between Scott and Stiles that, with her werewolf hearing, sounded like it was happening right next to her. 

Scott was saying, “Stiles, you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Stiles answered.

“I have to show you what I found. We have the bestiary.”

“That’s great,” he said, not sounding at all enthused. 

“Come on, my laptop’s in my car. I’ll show you.” 

“I just—let me check on Erica, okay?”

She was so lost in listening to their conversation that she was surprised to hear Derek saying her name. 

“Erica,” Derek said. “What happened?”

“Oh, uh.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I told you I didn’t want you distracted.” 

“Just three seconds. There might be—uh, valuable information and all that.”

He crossed his arms and exhaled pure judgment; at least, that’s what she thought she smelled. 

“…You’re acting weird, Stiles,” Scott said. “Derek’s with her. She’s fine. We can talk to them later. But we need to try to find whatever that thing is in the bestiary, like, now.”

“Sorry if I’m acting a little weird. You know, I did spend, like, three hours trapped in a pool by a giant lizard, who earlier murdered someone right in front me. Oh, not to mention I almost drowned to death. And also that you hung up on me after I had to, you know, risk Erica’s life to get my phone. So sorry if I’m not in the best mood.”

“Stiles, I’m sorry, man. I-”

“Not to mention that Lydia actually wanted to talk to me and I totally abandoned her for all this werewolf stuff and now the girl I’m in love with probably hates my guts. That’s just the cherry on top of everything.” He groaned. “Sorry, I’m just on edge from everything. I guess this stuff is finally…nevermind, this isn’t your fault. I’m sorry.”

Erica gulped. Of course. What had she been thinking? That holding her for a while in a pool would do anything to undo Lydia’s hold on him? 

“Do we need to take this in the hallway?” Derek asked.

She nodded, but before following him into the hall, checked over her shoulder first. Stiles was looking directly at her. He mouthed, “You okay?” Seeing him look at her like that made Erica forget all about his Lydia comments because maybe he didn’t like her the way she had liked him all those years but he saw her—and more than all those guys who were flocking around her locker every period at school. 

She smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up…then almost died on the spot because thumbs up, really, how dorky could she be? That didn’t fit with her new image at all. 

Stiles laughed, in that same way he laughed at Scott all those years ago in science class. A laugh between friends. 

Derek, patience totally tried at this point, grabbed Erica by the arm and yanked her into the hall. She did her best to tell him everything that had happened after his body hit the tile, though she made sure to leave out the mushy parts.


End file.
